The Text Files
by OtakuLady8435
Summary: Just a couple of texts between superhero colleagues. Utter Crack.
1. Opening Night

**DISCLAIMER: None of the characters in this are mine they all belong to DC. The OC though is mine.**

**Utter crack inspired by Pinterest.**

**OPENING NIGHT**

Wally West, The Flash, stood before the crystalline touchscreen checking his schedule. Usually, he simply blew by the Board but today was different. He input his ID and instantly an image of him and the monitor schedule for the next six months appeared. Batman's doing no doubt.

He grinned at his photo. "Hello you handsome devil." He scanned the board, seeing no problem until—His eyes widened. He was scheduled for monitor duty on December 20. That was opening night! Oh no. _**Heck**_ no. He took his crimefighting very seriously, but monitor duty on opening night? That was where he drew the friggin' line! An expression of firm resolve claimed his features. This had to be set to rights now.

He made his way down the halls and to the monitoring room, knowing that Superman was on duty. Sure, he could tell Bats, but then he'd have to endure the infamous Bat-_glare_. So, yeah, he was definitely taking the easy way out. He sped towards the older man, finding him slouched in the rigid yet weirdly comfortable chair, the huge screen covering the world's happenings before him. He stared at the studded vacuum of outer space aside the monitors briefly before glancing down at Superman.

"Hey Supes?" He leaned against the column, fingers tapping with restlessness.

"Hmm?" He held his phone in hand, its screen filled with colorful candies. He switched two candies to make a four-way match.

"You got me down for monitor duty on December 20." Clark only nodded, switching more candies to form a color bomb. "I can't do that night, because it's opening night."

"Really?" He switched the color bomb with a red jellybean.

Wally cleared his throat. "Yeah. It's Star Wars episode nine opening night with the exclusive extra five minutes of screen time. I can't miss that!" He reasoned.

"I understand." He switched four to make a fish.

He rocked on the balls of his feet. "So, you'll change it?"

"Yeah." He watched the candies fall in place, cascading several times.

Wally's heart leapt. Yes! He refrained from doing a celebratory dance. "Great! Thanks, Supes!" He sped away to find something to satiate his cavernous appetite.

Superman smiled with satisfaction as the words 'Sugar Crush' filtered from his cell phone. He'd been stuck on that level for 12 darn days. He scanned the monitors before blinking. Wait. Hadn't Wally just been talking to him? He shrugged and went to level 548, on which he immediately lost his last life.

Wally did a last-minute check on his costume and zipped out of the alley into the extensive line. He checked his watch: 5:00pm. Good. He should have at least a somewhat decent spot. He set his lawn chair against the window of the neighboring store and sat down, opening his cooler to reveal 15 turkey sandwiches, six bags of skittles, a bag of assorted fun-sized chocolate bars, and 10 colas (which he wouldn't touch until he was inside the theater). He'd learned his lesson last year. He'd lost his place because he had to go take a wiz.

He sat in this lawn chair, conversing idly with a teenager dressed as a Jedi. "Wow, so your parents don't mind you sitting outside a movie theater until midnight?" He scanned the crowd of elaborately dressed people in front of and behind him with somewhat happiness. Usually he felt like a sore thumb in the world but in these moments of fellowship he felt like he belonged.

The boy, Robbie, whose dreadlocks were pulled into a man bun (ugh) with a padawan learner's braid, grinned brightly. "Dude they're coming dressed as Han Solo and Leia. They just sent me for the tickets and the experience."

"Oh." He reached in his cooler and withdrew a cola. "Cola?" He sent a smile to a few passersby who just stared at him like he was some sort of freak. He only sent them a playful smirk.

"Sure." The boy took the proffered can. "Gummy bear?" He offered a large Ziplock bag overrun with the gelatinous treats.

"Don't mind if I do." He grabbed a handful and tossed them into his mouth. His eyes shifted over the cars lining the street, the bustling sidewalk across the road, and the streetlights illuminating their pathway. Vaguely the scent of garlic bread wafted to his nostrils.

"Hey. Did you see the guy dressed as Chewbacca?"

He nodded emphatically. "Who could miss him."

"His costume is awesome though. He's got the height too. Though…I don't know how."

Wally shrugged. "Must be—" His cell phone trilled a whistle, notifying him of a message. "Excuse me." He checked it. It was Superman.

'_Where are you?'_

He raised an eyebrow. Since when did Clark check up on him. _'In line to see Star Wars: Episode 9.' He pressed the send button._

A moment later his phone whistled. He heaved a sigh and checked it. _'WHAT?! You're supposed to be on monitor duty Wally.'_

He nearly face-palmed, realizing Clark hadn't heard a word he said two weeks ago. _'I told you I wouldn't work on opening night.' _

The reply as expected was near immediate. _'Villains might be committing crimes!'_

He could just imagine Clark's disapproving frown. Big Blue was wrong though. _'No villains are committing crimes on opening night.'_ It was true, he'd spotted at least five of their major enemies in disguise, dressed up in costume no less. He paused then added another message: _'In fact Gorilla Grodd is in the same line as me dressed as a 9 feet tall Chewbacca.'_ He sent the message with a grin, wondering if Superman's eyebrows were still attached or had receded into his hairline.

A second later: _'He's what?!'_ Here there were several angry and shocked emojis. _'Are you going to do anything about it?'_

He snorted and rolled his eyes_. 'I'm sure as heck not gonna let him sit in front of me that's for darn sure.'_ He pressed send, perking up when a ripple of excitement fluttered through the line.

"I think they just opened the doors!" Robbie jumped to his feet, eyes shining with anticipation.

Near manic excitement flipped in his belly. Finally! His hours of effort would finally be rewarded. He refrained from using his superspeed to pack up all his belongs, doing so at a sedate pace. He clicked over to his messenger.

'_Gotta go! The line is moving.'_ He turned his phone on silent, not wanting anything to disturb him on this most sacred of nights in this most sacred of entertainment temples.

END


	2. Hey, You Dropped Something

**Hey…You Dropped Something**

Lex Luthor lay sprawled on the plush couch in his vast bedroom, a hot water bottle on his aching head. His stomach gurgled ominously and his mouth tasted evil. What had he done last night? He remembered going to the annual villains' costume soiree last night, chatting up Killer Frost, downing a few vodkas, then…nothing. His brow furrowed.

He had an excellent memory. Why was it all a garble of fuzz? Had he been drugged last night? If so, he had at least 50 suspects, several of which he loathed to cross. His phone rang, belting out a quote by Niccolo Machiavelli. Without moving his body, sans his arm he picked up the insanely expensive and high-tech cell phone. He raised an eyebrow at the sender. The Joker?

'Luthor, darling, how ya doing?'

He typed in the automatic response. 'Not great.' He actually felt like the crap of a rhesus monkey with Montezuma's revenge. 'Can't remember anything after the costume party.' He pressed send. A moment later the phone went off. He lifted it from his stomach and read it, eyebrows raising in embarrassment.

'You were a riot! You ran around drunk in you costume yelling: I get it! I get it, now! The cape is amazing!' At the end of this sentence were a bunch of laughing emojis. 'Then you tried jumping off the roof!'

He blinked at the message. "What?" But he was still alive. Who had stopped him from ending his life in a haze of drunken stupidity. 'Who stopped me?' He pressed send.

A second later: 'Nobody stopped you! We're villains dummy!' Here were a bunch of laughing and eye-roll emoji. 'We watched you jump.'

Luthor glared at the message, then chided himself. What could he expect from a room full of psychos and maniacs? At least they'd hadn't pushed him. This begged the question how the heck was he alive? 'How did I survive?' He sent the message. He had an inkling, a terrifying inkling how he'd been saved but he hoped with every single fiber of his being that his hunch was wrong.

'Superman caught you!' Lex groaned with utter humiliation. 'Then you tried to give him a thank you kiss. It went downhill from there. But it was a delightful train wreck!'

Luthor knew the psychotic clown was definitely cackling his butt off. A second alter his messenger popped on and he knew his eyes would sustain permanent damage from the image. There on his screen in all its nauseating glory was a picture of him held bridal style by a clearly uncomfortable Superman happily nuzzling the hero's cape in his hands.

Oh gods! How the heck would he ever live this down. Maybe he could whip up some sort of memory loss serum for all who'd attended the costume party. He tossed his phone across the room, frowning when he didn't hear it satisfyingly shatter against the wall. Darned gorilla glass. He heaved a large sigh. His poor dignity.


	3. Doctor's Orders

**DOCTOR'S ORDERS**

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT own any of these characters they are the property of DC comics.**

Tim sat atop one of Gotham's many roofs, eyes glued to the street below. Today was his third night on stakeout. He was seriously starting to wonder if he'd gotten false info. He heaved a sigh and his mind, as always, meandered to several different lines of thought. One of which concerned one Jason Todd. He reached in one of the hidden compartments on his utility belt and fished out his cell phone.

He scrolled through his contacts, finding his "brother's" number. _ 'How'd your doctor's apptmt go?'_ He pressed send, waiting for whatever madness with which Jason would regale him.

His phone buzzed a few seconds later. He glanced down at the screen. _'It went great. I've got a pretty chill doctor. He told me I could start murdering people.'_ Several smiley emojis punctuated the message's end.

Tim's eyes widened at the message's content. Surely a licensed physician would not condone a killing spree. _'Who the heck did you see?! Harley Quinn?!'_ He pressed send.

Jason's response was lightning quick. _'NO!'_ Several angry emojis. _'I saw a sane doctor upstate. With credible credentials.'_

He snorted at the response. _'Really? A sane doctor suggested you commit mass murders?'_ Here he typed in an eyeroll emoji before sending the message. He drew his cape closer when a brisk wind blew by, causing the hems to billow.

'_Yes.'_ Came the quick reply.

Tim deadpanned at the screen before responding with: _'…'_

'_Well, he said I should start getting rid of the stress in my life, but I know what he meant.'_ At the end were several winking emojis.

Tim nearly facepalmed at the response. _'You do know that's really not what he means right.'_ He pressed send and waited but when no answer was forthcoming he typed: _'Right?... Jason?!'_ Dang, he hoped Jason hadn't started taking his doctor's advice.

Before he decided to notify Dick his phone buzzed: _'Of course I do,' _was the response followed by a winking emoji.

Tim silently cursed the other male but before he could respond movement below caught his attention. He sent Jason a peace sign before leaping from the building.

**END**

**AN: To all of my readers: Thank you for all your reviews! I have literally finished this entire story, so expect a new chapter at least once a day. Thought I have finished I had so much fun typing these -shout out to Pinterest- that if you find some that you think are funny you can give me the gist of it and I'll be happy to scribble up a new chapter. Also be on the look out for a Marvel edition soon (not too soon though). **


	4. Unbelievable

**UNBELIEVABLE**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own these wonderful characters. They belong to DC comics. Read and Review please. **

**Wonderbat385: Glad you loved it! (^_^)**

Diana sat on her sofa staring at the television in shocked anger. She couldn't fracking believe this! After all that hard work all she could do right now was watch as Lex Luthor strutted out of the MPD flanked by a gauntlet of reporters and climbed into his limousine.

"What the heck!" She clenched her fist. How the Hermes did that weasel get off free? He'd confessed to his crimes under the influence of her Lasso of Truth. And man's justice system just released him? With an angry snarl, she picked up her cell phone, a high-tech device with a bold red case. She found Batman's number.

'_Why did Luthor go free? I got a confession out of him!'_ She tossed it onto the couch, careful of her strength. She picked it up when it zoomed moments later.

'_Yeah that didn't work out. Polygraphs aren't even admissible in court. They're definitely not accepting confession under Lasso of Truth.'_

A deep frown claimed her lovely features. She could almost imagine Bruce's matter-of-fact tone in her head. There had to be a way to get that xenophobic fool imprisoned for his plethora of crimes. _'What if I testify?'_ She put the phone down after sending the message, too livid to even channel surf.

Her phone zoomed and she picked it up, reading the message. _'You have no identification and were born from clay and lightning. Under the law, you don't exist.'_

She blinked at the message. A light bulb powered by justice and retribution flashed to life in her mind. _'That probably means I can't be arrested if I crash my invisible jet into his house, right?'_ She sent the message without a second thought. It's not like she needed Bruce's permission, but she could use Luthor's home address. And more than likely Bruce had that information. She wasn't going to kill the walking bag of excrement in the crash of course, but if debris happened to squish him… No harm no foul. Her phone zoomed.

'_Officially, I can't condone that. Unofficially, you've got clear skies and his address is 647 Front Street.'_

Diana rose, a wicked smirk twisting her lips. She yanked up her keys and exited her apartment. Time to pay Lex Luthor a visit.

**END**


	5. Sorry About That

**SORRY ABOUT THAT**

**DISCLAIMER: Not mine. **

Clark sat at his desk in the Daily Planet's bullpen staring at his phone's screen with something like nervousness. On it was Bruce's contact information. After last week's brainwash fiasco Bruce had not replied to any of his texts, phone calls, or peace offerings. Not even Alfred succeeded in softening the Gothamite. So, he was going for a flat-out sincere apology.

He opened his messenger icon. _'Let me just start by saying I'm sorry. I was brainwashed.'_ He sent the message and set the phone aside. With that done, he started his article on lead poisoning in low-income neighborhoods.

He was in the middle of checking his rough draft's conciseness when his phone beeped. He hurriedly snatched it up. _'You destroyed the Batsignal!'_

He ducked his head in sheepishness. Well, at least Bruce replied. _'I was brainwashed.'_

Surprisingly the reply came back quicker than last time. He sighed when he read its content. _'You shotputted the Batmobile into space!'_

'_Brainwashed!'_ He sent the message then added: '_It wasn't me.'_ He pressed send. His phone beeped moments later.

'_You also wrote "For a sad time call Batman" on every bathroom stall in Gotham. Brainwashed?'_

Clark snorted so loud that Michele turned around in her seat to regard him. He gave a hangdog grin. Well, while he was being honest… _'No. that was all me.'_ He sent the message, hoping he would get a reply. He did not receive a reply. He sighed. Great.

**FIN**

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**Batman's really gonna hate Clark for writing his number on those bathroom stalls later. Mwahahaha!**


	6. Try Again Later

**TRY AGAIN LATER**

**DISCLAIMER: Characters are not mine.**

**Wonderbat385: Thanks for your reviews! They make this worth the trouble.**

Bruce stood atop one of Dick's many "snack roofs" in full Batman regalia eating a small bag of pecans. Gotham lay buried beneath a seven feet layer of now and it was nope degrees. His thermals were doing their job, but dang if he didn't still feel the chill in the night air every time the wind blew. Nights like tonight he really wanted to stay home.

A pocket of his utility belt buzzed and vibrated. He hurriedly reached into the pocket, thinking it was one of his former sidekicks needing his aid. It was not one of his former sidekicks. It was Victor Freis, a.k.a Dr. Freeze. His eyes narrowed, mind cursing Clark Kent to the pit and back.

Sighing he opened the message, because why the heck not it was a slow night. He wished he'd left it closed because he'd taken his first step on the road to Crazyville. The message read as follows:

'_Give in to my demands or I'll blanket Gotham in eternal winter!'_ Snowflake emojis punctuated his message.

Batman looked out at the snow-buried cityscape then back down at his phone with a blank face. He pulled up his message. _'It's December. Mother Nature beat you to the punch.'_ He pressed send, hoping that ended the conversation. Seconds later the sleek black phone buzzed. He sighed, breath turning to smoke in the air. Apparently, the conversation was not over.

He read the message on the screen. '_Snowstorms rivaling arctic blizzards will fall on Gotham!'_

Again, Batman regarded the pure white scenery before him. He popped a handful of pecans into his mouth before typing: _'You're just describing December._' He pressed send.

His eyes narrowed when his phone buzzed lightning quick. He glared at the device, considering hunting the icy villain down to end this mundane chat with his fists. Instead, he read the message.

'_Ice WILL lay waste to the city!'_ Evil faces and snowflake emojis ended the empty threat.

Batman pinched the bridge of his nose. For the love of… '_De…cem…ber! Come back in April when it's just getting warm. I'll care then.'_ He pressed the button.

Nanoseconds later: _'Promise?'_

Batman looked at the question. Heck yeah, he could promise. If Freeze threatened to bring snow and ice back just when Gotham's annual temporary Ice Age ended, he would care. He'd probably punch the fool's teeth down his throat. Of course, he couldn't let Freeze know the truth. _'Nah.'_ He replied before turning the phone on silent. Crazy had decided to take a night off and so was he. Time to head home.

**END**


	7. They What!

**THEY WHAT?!**

**DISCLAIMER: In my dreams, these awesome characters belong to me. Sadly they are not mine but they belong to DC comics.**

Flash, Wally West, sped down the hall on a mission. Someone had committed a grave crime of the highest order and he was hellbent on finding the culprit. One of the so-called heroes on the Tower had cruelly wronged him.

He stopped in the cafeteria, eyes narrowing suspiciously. Dozens of heroes sat at the strategically placed tables consuming lunch. One of these heroes had done the unthinkable: eaten his last bag of Limited-edition hot wings flavored potato chips. They'd been discontinued a month ago—luckily, he'd hoarded 38 bags away like any smart addict. He'd been slowly eating them, trying to make them last until his petition had enough signatures. He'd gone to check on his last bag to ensure its coziness and found the cabinet empty. Empty! Now, he couldn't get his fix, and someone was going to spill the beans.

He spent the rest of his day on his investigation all but interrogating a good portion of the JLU. But he came up short. Every single person denied the atrocious misdeed. He ran to his private quarters and grabbed the phone from his bed. He looked through his contacts, finding his ace's number. He pressed the picture, already knowing exactly how to ensnare her help. He started typing:

'_Diana, can you come up to the Tower? We need your help.'_

The response was fast, as expected. _'I'll be right there. Who is attacking?'_

He scratched his chin, nervous. But if everything worked out, he'd have his perpetrator. '_No one. Someone ate my chips and no one's fessing up. I need you to use your lasso on them.'_ He hesitated but sent the message, nonetheless.

His phone dinged. He pressed the message icon. Her reply promptly popped on screen and as he thought he could practically hear the indignation in her words. _'My Lasso of Truth is a weapon of righteousness, not some toy to settle your petty squabbles.'_ A line of angry faces followed the last word.

He almost smiled at the words. She'd change her mind after this message. '_Someone ate your ice cream too.'_ It was true. During his investigation he'd gotten hungry and gone for some ice cream and sure enough he'd spied an empty tub of Pralines 'n' Cream, a special flavor from a local ice cream parlor, in the trash can. He grinned and pressed the send button.

The response was speedy and so ferocious he wondered if his phone would spontaneously combust from the intensity. _'So, today's the day the Justice League dies.'_

His eyes widened and he wondered what kind of sleeping dragon he'd awakened. He bit his lip. _'Uhhh…'_ He sent the message.

His phone dinged. _'Oh, not you. You're good. I'll see what I can do about your chips.'_

He stood for a moment, pondering. Should he be worried? Well, Bats did say he had a contingency plan just in case any of them went off the rails. So, it would be mostly okay. If not well…he'd have his potato chip thief. He nodded and rose from the bed to go greet Diana.

**FIN**


	8. Please Do That

**PLEASE DO THAT**

**DISCLAIMER: Nope not mine.**

Oliver exited the bathroom; hair still damp from his languid bath. Ah, nothing like a hot bath after hard night on patrol. He strode across his spacious room to his decanter and picked a bottle of wine. He walked to his lavish couch and sat down, clad only in his silk boxers, before popping the top and pouring himself a generous glass of wine. He stared out at the wall-length floor-to-ceiling windows watching as the shadows of the night began fading. He slouched into the couch allowing himself to decompress.

He took a swallow of wine seconds before his phone, a sleek blue device, chirped three times. He picked it up and pressed the message icon. It was a text from J'onn. He took another swallow of wine just as he started reading the message.

'_Urgent Mission. A meteor is headed directly for Earth. Its mass will create extinction level destruction. We need you to move it.' _

Oliver promptly choked. Wine sprayed all over him, going up his nose where it stung like a mutha. For four solid minutes he devolved into the involuntary hacking coughs forced upon one as the body mercilessly attempts to free the obstructed pathway.

Once it was over, he wiped the spittle and expelled wine clinging to his beard away, glaring at the wine glass still held in his hand. He set it on the coffee table and retrieved the cell phone he'd tossed aside. He stared at the message as if it were a verbal nightmare. "Okay. Okay." J'onn had notified him of this oncoming apocalypse which meant that the Big Seven and anyone else that stood a chance were unavailable.

Crap. He should have just gone to bed. Sure, a meteor would kamikaze planet Earth but, hey, at least he'd be blissfully asleep. But now he had to deal with this shite. He, Oliver Queen, the Green Arrow, had to save Earth from doom from outer space. This was not in his job description, heck it wasn't even in his wheelhouse. Got a terrorist running around blowing up stuff? Handled. Drug lords selling hyped up merch that turned people to crazed killing machines? Got your back all day long. World-ending asteroid hurtling towards Earth at hundreds of miles per hour? He'd call Superman for you.

He was no coward but, dang it, he knew his limits and when he was outclassed. But, J'onn was depending on his help. Earth depended on his help. He had to do something. Groaning with resignation he typed in his response.

'_Wow, okay. So, what's the plan? Do we have a budget? How much time do we have?'_ He pressed send. He had no idea what the in the balls creek he was going to do but crap if he would not give it the old college try.

He looked at his phone when it chirped. He expected some veritable novel of complicated plan, or that he was the chosen mastermind, but what he got was unexpected. _'Oops. Apologies Arrow. This message was meant for Superman.'_

Glory hallelujah on high! Relief washed over him so suddenly his head swam. He'd never been so happy to be a wrong number in his entire life. He picked up the phone when his nervous giggles died down.

'_Oh, thank God. Yes, text Superman. I really had NO plans for that we all would have died. That's seven years off my life.'_ He sent the message. Still jittery, he downed what wine was left in the glass.

'_Apologies.'_ Came J'onn's reply

Oliver didn't bother to answer the reply opting instead to turn the wine bottle up. After he finished guzzling the drink, he slouched into the couch cushions and gazed up at the ceiling. He was going to get his number changed asap.

**FIN**


	9. Valid Questions

**VALID QUESTIONS**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters in any shape or form. I wish I did, but there are a serious lack of genie bottles in the world. (-_-)**

Hal parted ways with Supergirl, having successfully defeated their foe. His mind wandered as he flew towards home, thousands of miles away from Japan. Questions that he'd definitely not utter aloud roiled through his brain. But one that would not be denied stuck in his mind like flypaper. He pulled out his Earth cell phone and found Clark's number.

'_Hey, if Kryptonians had space travel why didn't more survive the planet exploding?'_ He sent the message, hoping Superman wouldn't take offense. I mean, if he did Hal was on the other side of the world and by the time he saw Big Blue again, he would have no doubt calmed down. Superman would forget, unlike Batman. Batman never forgot and simmered for what seemed like for-fricking-ever. He glanced down when his phone's text alert, two knocks, reached his ears.

'_Everybody was at home that weekend. It was a Kryptonian holiday.'_

His eyebrows raised. Well, that would explain a lot. Wait, was Superman messing with him? _'Really?'_ He sent and resumed his flight.

He closed his eyes, enjoying the wind ruffling his hair and the blue of the sky. He looked down when his message alert knocked. _'No! I'm kidding.' _Here there was a laughing emoji._ 'I don't know why everyone died. It's just me, my cousin, and those in the Phantom Zone left.'_

Wtf? Seriously? _'So the only thing on Krypton built to survive a planetary explosion was your prison?'_ It made no sense. What were they thinking? "You're the scum of our planet so I'm going to send you to a maximum-security prison where you will suffer every day but you'll survive global extinction."

He read the message when his phone knocked. '_Design flaws were one of Krypton's biggest problems. We saved all our information on sharp crystals! I was a baby floating through space in a pod of loose glass!'_

Hal gawped at the phone before shaking his head. Respect for Superman for making it to toddlerhood. Krypton must have been like Norman doors on steroids.

**END**


	10. We All Know

**WE ALL KNOW**

**DISCLAIMER: Nothing is mine.**

Lex Luthor dipped his feet in the luxurious foot bath, moaning appreciatively at the delicious heat of the water. Ah, yes, his feet would be like a newborn baby's bottom when he finished. He leaned his head back, settling into the obscenely comfortable chair and enjoyed the peace of the VIP spa room as the zen sounds of a shakuhachi and koto in perfect harmony lilted in the room.

He smiled, thinking about the 1:00 pm scalp massage he'd booked. Only 20 minutes until bliss. His phone vibrated annoyingly. He heaved a heavy sigh thinking it was Mercy. It was Metallo. He groaned. What did that thug want? He opened the text message.

_'I ran Superman's face through a facial recognition scan. He's Clark Kent! He works at the Daily Planet!'_

Lex would have face-palmed had he been one for such a gesture. Instead, he settled for rolling his eyes, but replied. '_Yes Metallo, we all know. Keep it to yourself.'_ He pressed send, thinking that ended the madness. He, unfortunately, was wrong.

Another groan left him when his phone vibrated. _'What?! If everyone knows why isn't it public?'_

Oh, for the love of all that was Niccolo Machiavelli's bowl cut. '_Because if we make him keep his job that's 8 hours less he's trying to stop us.'_ He sent the message hoping it ended the conversation and he would have peace. Again, he was wrong.

His phone buzzed, again. He cursed loudly. _'But we could attack him when he least expects it!'_

He rolled his eyes at the stupidity of Metallo's reasoning. He started typing. _'Why? You think he's any less bulletproof when he's at home in his pajamas?'_ He finished the tart reply and pressed send right before he put the phone on silent. No more madness, not in his bubble of tranquility.

**END**

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**AN: Saw this one on Pinterest and couldn't resist. There are at least two more after this one that feature villains. **


	11. Riddlemaster

**RIDDLE MASTER**

**DISCLAIMER: Only the OCs are mine every thing else is all DC comics.**

Henchman for hire Vinnie "Fridge" Harrow sat in Dot's diner polishing off his breakfast. He was a titan of man standing at 6'5", barrel-chested and broad-shouldered. He was tough and combat skilled, having mixed it up with many heavy hitters of Gotham's underground criminals. Usually, he stayed under the radar, but had decided to take an interview with The Riddler which meant he'd definitely encounter the Bat.

Speaking of the Riddler… He picked up his old beat-up cell phone and found his new boss's number. He pressed the message icon and typed: _'What time are we doing the job today?'_ He sent the message and busied himself with consuming his the rest of his breakfast while he waited for the Riddler's response.

He finished off his small mound of hash browns, humming appreciatively. Doc made _**the**_ best hash browns hands down. His phone vibrated. He picked it up to read the message, expression turning to one of annoyance_. 'At the time a clock is like the whistle of a train.' _Wow. Really?

He frowned at the phone for a moment before sighing. All the villains in Gotham really were crazy weren't they. A riddle for an answer? Sure, he got Riddles were the man's shtick but wasn't answering basic questions with riddles a bit…over kill? He typed in the answer_. 'Two to two. A strange time but I'll be there. Who are we hitting up? You never said.'_ He sent the message.

He smiled as he watched Brenda, a gorgeous woman thick in the thighs and soft in the middle, flutter about the establishment tending to the customers. Well, only six tables were occupied but come lunch, diners would swamp the place. His phone vibrated again, scooting across the table's smooth surface.

He plucked it up and would have answered it had he not noticed Brenda strutting towards him coffee pot in hand. He ran a hand through his red hair, putting on his best winning smile. He let her Jamaican accent wash over him like butter when she greeted him, admiring the natural curls drawn into a thick topknot atop her head. She was a beautiful goddess and darn it if he didn't want to worship at her temple.

As usual, they held a brief conversation in which he failed miserably at plucking up the courage to ask her to dinner. He watched her return to the bar counter before remembering his phone had buzzed minutes ago. He scooped it up and read the message.

'_Of course, I did. I said the man who is always in a hurry and is like wood.'_ Vinnie rolled his eyes. Another riddle. I mean, he loved riddles more than most but Riddler pushed the envelope. This one, like the last riddle was overly simple.

'_Russian Ruler. Got it. See you there.' _ He sent. He downed his coffee, tossed down a few bills for a tip, paid the check, and exited the establishment. His phone vibrated in his hand. He glanced down at it. Lord it was The Riddler.

'_Riddle me this! How did you solve those so fast?'_ He frowned at the question. What the heck? Just because he was a villain didn't mean he was some meathead.

He strode across the busy sidewalk to his 1975 Nova. '_I made a riddle app for the iPhone. I have a meeting with Wayne Enterprises tomorrow actually. They're super interested in buying it for some odd reason.'_ He pressed send and climbed into his car

**END**


	12. Boots

**BOOTS**

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. The characters come from DC. **

J'onn stood in the large department store a pair of gorgeous boots in one hand, waiting for the cashiers to serve him. The store bustled with activity, many workers wearing the jittery expression that come with this most holy of retail days.

His cell phone buzzed. He used his free hand to fish it from his pocket, pressing the message icon. It was from Superman, surprisingly. _'You won't believe what Flash did. You know those boots Diana wanted?'_

He sidestepped an oncoming worker. _'Absolutely.'_ He replied.

Superman's response was speedy_. 'Well, I'm in line at a Black Friday sale and Flash is 50 people behind me waving and yelling "boots" over and over.'_ J'onn grinned but before he could began composing his reply his phone buzzed again. _'He's going to try and race me to them. I know it.'_

J'onn couldn't help the half-smug half sly smirk that claimed his alien features. _'That's a race you'll both lose. I'm already in the store. I'm invisible and holding the boots. I'm just waiting for the register to open.'_ He pressed send, watching the cashier stride to the counter before she bent to place a few perfume samplers onto the glass surface.

Seconds later his phone buzzed_. 'Dang I think your real power is being underestimated.'_

J'onn smiled to himself. Darn straight. He turned visible, in the guise of a distinguished elderly gentleman, and strode to the cash register. He gave her a congenial smile before placing the boots, 75% off, on the counter. "It looks like it's going to be a madhouse today," he said serenely.

**END**


	13. Kinda, Sorta

**KINDA, SORTA**

**DISCLAIMER: Nothing is mine (;_;)**

Batman, in full crimefighting regalia, stood waiting in line in a coffee shop. He was fatigued from fighting a head cold from hell and, oh joy, his villains decided to be unusually active for this time of year. Which meant, he hadn't slept in days.

He ignored the looks he garnered, content to act like it was a normal day. His phone rang, belting out the chorus to Cyndi Lauper's party anthem _Girls Just Wanna Have Fun_. He silently cursed Jason before dismissing the call without even looking at the screen. He steadfastly ignored the accompanying whispers and amused glances he no doubt received from such an unlikely choice of ringtone. He frowned. He'd make sure to sneeze on Jason later.

His phone dinged, signaling a text message. He withdrew the phone from his utility belt and regarded the message. It was from Clark. His eyes automatically narrowed.

'_Are you in charge of updating the JL website?'_

He already knew where this conversation was probably headed. _'Yes._' He sent the message, taking two steps forward when the line full of nightshift workers moved. The phone dinged not a minute later.

He looked down at the screen. _'Why is my profile picture of the time Doomsday "killed" me?'_

Batman grinned at the question, remembering the satisfaction he'd felt uploading the picture. '_You've been kind of a prick lately, so think of it as a reminder not to get too full of yourself.'_ He pressed send before stepping up to the counter and giving his order, black coffee no cream with two shots of espresso. He walked to the waiting area.

'_That's ridiculous. I haven't been a prick lately. You're just still sore about the Batsignal and Batmobile.'_

Batman's eyes narrowed into slits beneath his cowl. Sonofacow. He had a right to his grudge, but Clark _had_ been an a-hole lately. _'Are you telling me you knew that picture from memory and not because you found it by Googling yourself?'_ He pressed send.

The barista called out his name. He strode to the counter and took the glorious liquid encased in the standard lidded cup, pulling out a couple of wadded up bills and dropping them in the tip jar. He hoped $200 was enough for tips. He thanked him and strode towards the door. His phone dinged. He looked down at the message on the screen.

'_No. I used Bing.'_

Batman contemplated spontaneously donating his phone to charity but instead tucked it away without replying. He strode past the customers sitting at the booths, hearing the subtle click of cellphone cameras. Sighing he braced himself to exit the warm establishment to the frigid Gotham night.

**END**


	14. Interesting

**INTERESTING**

**DISCLAIMER: NOT MINE.**

Superman sat atop a roof of one of Metropolis's throng of skyscrapers eating his lunch: a hot dog with all the fixings, large order of fries, and churros all in a grease-stained paper bag. He chewed thoughtfully on the mouthful of deliciousness.

He stared out at the skyline backdropped against the azure afternoon sky with appreciative wonder. His mind meandered to the peculiar assignment he'd received from Mr. White. He retrieved his phone from the hidden pocket on his suit and pulled up Bruce's number. He tapped the message icon.

'_I was handed an interesting assignment at work today.'_ He sent, almost giddy to see Batman's answer. The reply was quick. Well that was something.

'_I don't have time to talk work. I'm building some custom weaponry.'_ Clark raised an eyebrow, grin slowly forming.

He took a slurp of his soda before composing his message: _'The assignment is an article about Wayne Enterprises buying illegal black-market Kryptonite.'_ The answer was slower this time giving him time to scarf down a handful of fries and two large bites of his hot dog. He picked up his phone when it beeped.

He rolled his eyes at the reply: _'Whaaat? Those are crazy rumors I assure you. I don't' even know what I—we would do with that!'_

Superman pursed his lips. Mm-hm. Rumors, yeah right_. 'Sooo, what's the custom weaponry you said you're making?'_ He grinned smugly, imagining Bruce thinking up a believable lie.

Seconds later he received a reply: _'Just a special Batarang made from a substance I found just lying around. Probably nothing special. Just a really cool looking Batarang.'_

He squinted at the message. Well, that was a total lie_. 'This substance wouldn't happen to be green would it?'_ He pressed send, waiting for barely a breath before his phone beeped.

'_Noooo. Definitely not…no.'_

Superman rolled his eyes again. He might as well finish his hot dog and resign himself to Bruce having a batarang made of pure kryptonite.

**DONE**


	15. Impractical Much

**IMPRACTICAL MUCH**

**DISCLAIMER: I don not own anything! It all belongs to DC I'm just playing in their sandbox.**

Huntress sat in the car along with The Question on a stakeout. Their target of observation was a disreputable bar in the bowels of the city's underground scene. She wanted to bust in and get the answers they needed by means of aggressive negotiations. Vic insisted on a more finessed approach. So here she sat in a car while Vic pored over files, leaving her to wallow in mind-numbing boredom. So, she started checking her social media boards. She checked her three accounts, finding a common theme in the threads: Power Girl's…ahem…costume choice.

She pulled up the female powerhouse's number and typed: _'We have to talk about your outfit.'_ It was true because when it came to impracticality the other woman's outfit was the epitome of the word. A technophonic sequence of beeps sounded through the silent car. Vic barely flinched. She read the message.

'_Say "boob window" and I'll punch you into space.'_

Ah, so Power Girl had at the very least saw the posts. Poor thing. She paused before replying, knowing to take the woman's threat seriously. _'Your…"_ She thought for a second, trying to find an acceptable euphemism. _'…chest door is pretty impractical.'_ She preened over the clever choice of words.

Her phone alerted her to a reply. '_That's the pot calling the kettle black. But it represents the hole I feel in my existence. It's a metaphor.'_

Huntress snorted, glancing aside to see if she'd acquired Question's attention. He still sat, muttering to himself as he perused this case's information he'd compiled in his new notebook. She shook her head and returned to the text message. Sure. Metaphor. Right. '_It's a dirt trap! Bugs must get caught in there when you fly. And don't get me started on wind resistance.'_ She sent with a grin on her face. Power Girl must have bras made of friggin' miracles and magic.

Minutes later her phone beeped, signifying a message. She opened the message. _'I may have found a migratory bird trapped in there once,'_ here she'd inserted a nervously sweating emoji, _'but I stand by my choices. What bout you? What does your belly window represent?'_

Huntress raised an eyebrow. Represent? Heck, she wasn't so pretentious. Her "belly window" was there for only one reason. _'Nothing. Unless you count my sweet abs.'_ She inserted several flexing and winking emojis. Yes, her abs were awesome, and she was friggin proud of them. She rubbed her abs, feeling the strong sinewy muscle beneath the skin. She leaned over and pressed a kiss to her boyfriend's cheek, giving him a warm smile when he regarded her.

**END**


	16. Maybe

**MAYBE**

**DISCLAIMER:**** Nothing is mine.**

Batman stood hunkered in the corner, allowing the darkness to shroud him into nigh invisibility. A prick of impatience nipped him. Where the heck was his target? He reached into his utility belt and withdrew his cellphone.

'_Where are you Gordon?'_ He typed, sending the message. He had time to hum one of Kaleo's hits before the commissioner even answered.

'_At a crime scene. Dozens of people have been murdered! Where are you?'_

His eyes narrowed. Oh yeah, that crime scene. He'd already been there and had it solved. Only thing he needed was to get the information to Gordon. Startling the man was just a bonus_. 'It doesn't matter.' _ He pressed send and busied himself with eating a granola bar—not frozen solid this time thank you—while waiting for Gordon's response.

The reply came shortly, and it was splendid_. 'Are you waiting in the dark crevice of my office again?'_ Batman chuckled around the mouthful of granola bar.

'_Possibly,_' he sent. This time Gordon's answer came swiftly and was punctuated with angry emojis.

'_People are dead in the streets! How long have you been in the corner of my office waiting to startle me?'_

Batman smirked. _'Not long. Three or four hours. Oh, I watered your plants for you. You might want to pay a little more attention to the Lace aloe succulent.'_ He switched his phone to the game Angry Birds 2—sans the volume of course—and prepared to wait a little longer for Gordon.

**END**


	17. Aquatic Assistance

**AQUATIC ASSISTANCE**

**DISCLAIMER: We all know none of this belongs to me.**

Arthur sat on the sea shelf staring up at the full moon above the water's surface. His hair rippled in the water, the feel of the minute change in currents like a familiar embrace. All was quiet on the aquatic front. His people were safe and his brother on a villain sabbatical of sorts. His phone burbled. He withdrew it from his pocket, pressing the message icon. As usual, the blue holographic words hung in the water. The message was from his cranky colleague Batman.

'_Arthur, get to Gotham right now.'_ That was it, no pleasantries or courtesies, just those terse words.

He scowled at the message. The feck? He was sure there was a question somewhere in that command. He was a king darn it. He typed in his message. _'I'm just gonna assume you forgot to add, "please". Also, don't just assume I'm free.'_ He was the king of Atlantis. His schedule was chock full on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and especially during festivals.

His phone burbled in reply and Arthur seriously wondered how Batman wasn't dead yet from friendly fire. _'This is no time for jokes.'_ This phrase he ended with an eye roll emoji. Then, _'I need your help solving a murder.'_

His eyebrows shot up and a smile waltzed over his lips. Batman needed his help with a murder! This was so exciting. '_On my way! What happened? Drowning? A body in a shark?'_ He sent before rising from the shelf and shooting off towards Gotham like a torpedo, leaving a swath of bubbles in his wake.

He lifted his phone when it vibrated in his hand and read the message. _'No, it's a regular murder, but I think his goldfish saw the whole thing. I need you to talk to it.'_

He stared at it in surprised confusion. Really? See, that was the thing about land dwellers. They put fish in a bowl, thinking it was fine. They thought the fish were okay with being fed artificially made chips like a rat in a cage and experiencing the equivalent of seaquakes when idiots tapped the aquarium glass. They assumed the fish were somehow still sane. They were wrong. And goldfish were notoriously vengeful.

_'Fine, but it probably won't help solve the murder of a man who kept it in a bowl. You know the saying; a goldfish never forgets.'_ He replied, dodging through a pod of whales.

He held his phone up, but before he could start reading, he realized he was on a collision course. He evaded the school of rainbow runners and the shark lurking within it before reading the message. _'Literally, no one says that.'_

He raised an eyebrow. Land dwellers were unaware goldfish were the freshwater fish equivalent of elephants? He shook his head, letting out a sigh. Land dwellers.

**END**

* * *

**Wonderbat385: THANK YOU for all your wonderful reviews! Yes Batman is super funny when he wants to be and I enjoy writing him. I'm actually thinking of writing another series, crack of course, that revolves around the Bat family. I already have one typed and it involves cosplay and a very livid Damian.**** Glad you like this series and hope you continue to enjoy it (^_*)**


	18. Monitor Duty?

**MONITOR DUTY?**

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing.**

Superman flew towards downtown Metropolis which was a bevy of pandemonium and destruction. A robot the size of skyscraper used lasers from both its palms and giant cyclopic eye to wreak havoc upon the city.

He pulled out his cell and found the group text. _'There's a giant robot in Metropolis. Need all hands.'_ He pressed the send button and tucked his phone away before flying towards the steel monstrosity currently giving downtown a face lift.

The robot noticed him and in seconds he was dodging incessant bursts of particle beams. Vaguely, while trying not to get fried he heard his phone beep four times in rapid succession. What now? He evaded the bursts, managing to deal it a sound uppercut that sent it careening backwards.

He retrieved his phone to read the messages:

'_Sorry monitor duty_,' Aquaman sent.

'_Me too.'_ Came Wonder Woman's reply.

'_Me three.'_ Hal responded.

'_All of us, gotta watch those monitors.'_ Green Arrow answered, message ending with a winking emoji.

Superman looked up from his phone, trying to ignore the screams below so he could focus on the fight in front of him. His eyes widened. Well that didn't look good. The Robot of friggin' death ran full speed towards him each step sounding like thunderclaps, spikes protruding from its body. _'And just what's on those monitors?_' He couldn't believe in this situation his team members all decided to watch the monitors. Nothing was that important.

He clashed with Deathbot, avoiding its spikes while delivering punishing blows to its metallic body. Another brutal left hook sent it sprawling on its back one half of its face caved inwards.

He withdrew his phone to look at the reply. It was from Bruce. '_The season premiere of Into the Badlands.'_ Clark's jaw went slack with shock and high levels of disappointed indignation. They ditched him to watch a TV show?!

'_You're watching a show?! People are burning down here!'_ He punctuated the message with dozens of varying angry emojis. His gaze drifted to the street below where first responders ran about like ants trying to help those in need.

His phone beeped. He looked down at the message. It was from Flash_. 'I ran into the future and watched the entire next season. People are animals. Let them burn.'_

Superman face palmed, he'd have a heart-to-heart with Flash later, almost afraid to read the message when his phone beeped_. 'You got this Big Guy!'_ A thumbs-up and heart sign ended the message sent by Hal.

He sighed and sped towards the recovering robot like a bullet. They'd better not spoil the premiere for him or so fraggin help him God...

**END**

* * *

**Poor Superman. I don't know why but I just love messing with him (^_^)**


	19. Any Health Perks?

**ANY HEALTH PERKS?**

**DISCLAIMER: Vinnie and Brenda belong to me. Nothing else. **

**AN: Decided to just do three today because there are quiet a few more to go. Enjoy! Read & Review please.**

Vinnie slammed the front door to his small kitchenette apartment. Riddler was a goldarned fool in a Versace suit. He kicked off his mud-covered boots at the door and plodded towards the kitchen in search of a bag of frozen something to act as an icepack for the nasty bruise forming on his forehead. After finding a bag of breaded okra, he poured himself a generous shot glass of whiskey and sat down at the single-chaired table.

He grumbled petulantly to himself. He'd known Riddler was a frigging headcase. It was Gotham after all. Who wasn't nuts? But he'd thought the fool would at least not be like _crazy_, crazy. He only spoke in riddles. All the time. Who had that kind of commitment? He had to get out before he broke the terd's neck like a twig. So, he'd sniffed around for another criminal kingpin's number: Two-Face.

He drew out his phone—screen still cracked—and typed out his message. _'Hey Mr. Two-Face, I'm looking for a new crew. Are you hiring random henchmen right now? You can call Riddler as a reference.'_ He sent the message.

He'd finished off his glass of whiskey and had just turned off his pot of puttanesca pasta when his phone dinged. He took off his apron, hanging it aside, and walked to the table to retrieve the device.

He read the message: _'I can never get a straight answer from that guy. But I do need some muscle. You're hired.'_

He smiled in relief, wincing at the ache in his jaw he'd acquired from one of Robin's vicious roundhouse kicks last week. _'Wait a sec. You have dental?'_

The response came just after he'd fixed his bowl of pasta. _'No. You want dental, you're going to have to join the Joker's crew.'_

His eyes widened a fraction at the answer. Really? '_Joker's henchmen have dental?'_ Maybe that's why the clown never had a shortage of employees. Heck dental charges were frigging highway robberies in disguise.

He stuffed a forkful of noodles into his mouth, savoring the sauce and flavorings. He washed it down with wine. He glanced down when his phone dinged. He picked it up, reading the message.

'_Of course! Have you seen that guy's smile? That junk is beautiful.'_

He put the phone down, mind racing. His gaze idly shifted over the quaint furniture decorating his apartment. Was he willing to become part of Joker's crew just for dental perks? He thought for a moment before deciding to run it by Brenda later.

**FIN**

* * *

**Yes! He finally made that love connection with Brenda. Honestly I would join the Joker just for dental insurance.**


	20. Lower Lifeforms

**LOWER LIFEFORMS**

**DISCLAIMER: You know the drill. I own nothing.**

Clark stared worriedly at Krypto who had taken to lying on the couch, fasting, and whining for the past few days. He picked up his phone. _'I think Krypto might be sick, he's not eating.'_ Krypto usually ate the equivalent of 12 pigs. _'Do any of you know anything about alien dog physiology?'_

He strode across the vast living area of the Fortress of Solitude with its white walls and comfy furniture and sat next to the dog. His phone beeped three times. Each message was varying degrees of helpful.

The first was expected snark from Green Arrow. _'Oh shoot! And here I skipped alien dog day in business school.'_

The next was from an unsure but still concerned Green Lantern_. 'There's a dog-like alien in the Lantern Corp. I could ask him?'_

The third was from J'onn—Clark was still salty about those boots_. 'I could just ask Krypto directly. Would you like me to read his mind and find out what's wrong?'_

Clark gave a relieved sigh. Krypto would soon be on the path to mending. '_Yes of course!_' He typed. _'Thank you. I did not know your telepathy was even strong enough to communicate with lesser creatures.'_

His phone beeped before he could even start cuddling his dog. He balked at the terse reply. '_I communicate with you all the time.'_

To his annoyance and chagrin Flash decided to reply in the group message. _'Oh snap! The dude scared of fire coming in hot with a sick burn!'_ Irritating **flame **emojis proceeded the message.

He sighed. Great. The speedster was never going to let him live it down. His phone rang. He glanced down at the screen. It was the Flash. He promptly pressed ignore and leaned over to cuddle his beloved dog.

**END**

* * *

**J'ONN friggin slays! Every...single...time. Clark again putting his foot in his mouth and the Flash is always there to see the Kryptonian get roasted down to confetti. **


	21. That Whale I Know

**THAT WHALE I KNOW**

**DISCLAIMER: Not mine.**

**Wonderbat385: I feel the same way about J'onn! I feel like The Flash is always lurking around to see who he can roast after they've been burned.**

Oliver Queen mingled with the crème de la crème of Star City aboard his huge yacht. He'd planned this at sea soiree for months in advance. Of course, this wasn't just because he liked the uppercrusters but for charity. He made sure to schmooze those with deeper pockets a tad more enthusiastically, all to a live band.

His phone chirped. He looked down at its screen. It was Bruce. He excused himself and found a secluded area on the port side to read the message. It was a peculiar message, well more peculiar than usual.

'_Be careful out on your yacht. Aquaman has been showing up every time I take mine out.'_ He could just imagine a grumpy Batman getting a visit from an exuberant Aquaman.

'_That doesn't sound so bad.'_ He replied. His gaze drifted over the calm ocean waters and the brilliance of a sinking sun. His phone chirped. He read the message.

'_Last time he swam up on a dolphin pulled chariot and yelled "Hey Batman let's go prank that whale we know"!'_

Oliver let out a bark of laughter at the very thought of Batman trying to prank a whale. How is that even possible?_ 'That sounds fun!'_ He sent.

A moment later: _'I was Bruce Wayne at the time! The mayor was with me on the yacht.'_

Oliver knew he should feel something like sympathy, but really the only emotion fluttering in him was pure entertainment. _'Oops! How'd you talk your way outta that one?'_ Seriously what lie could you fabricate that'd refute a well-known superhero addressing you as another Justice League member with such familiarity? This explanation should be good.

The reply was speedy and as expected it was off the wall gold_. 'I told him my boat is called Batman and I knew the whale he was talking about from college._'

Oliver stared at the message gobsmacked. This was the kind of nonsense Batman fed the mayor? _'That makes no sense.'_ He sent.

His phone chirped_. 'It doesn't matter. He's the mayor of Gotham. He'll be dead by next week.'_ Oliver shook his head. Ever the cynic, Batman. He put his phone in his inner coat pocket and smiled when a lovely socialite approached him with flirt written all over her beautiful features.

**END**


	22. Man vs Shark

**MAN vs SHARK**

**DISCLAIMER: Nothing is mine.**

Aquaman sat upon his throne bored out of his skull. There weren't even citizens' complaints to listen to with concern. And the guards were no fun. He withdrew the Atlantean version of a cell phone and pulled up the message icon.

'_I'm excited for the Adrian vs shark race.' _ Mera had been all atwitter about the event. He had read about it on his The Clam account. He sent the message.

His phone burbled, signifying a message. He pressed the button, causing the crystalline letters to hover just above the screen. _'Me too. It reminds me of Me vs Superman.'_ His land dweller friend Batman replied.

He smiled at the reply. Although Batman was surly, brutally honest, and often negative his work ethic was one to be admired. '_You think of yourself as Adrian? A human, training super hard, hyper prepared, fighting someone with genetic gifts?'_ He pressed send, pinning a nosy guard with a hard glare.

'_No. I think of myself as the shark. As I'm a dangerous hunter and Superman is Adrian an idiot that's going to die.'_

He gawped at the message. Wow. He'd heard about their mini feud on the group chat, but he hadn't suspected it was true. _'How are things between you and Supes?'_

He glanced up when he heard voices. A guard escorted a noblewoman into the throne room. His phone burbled. He glanced down, surprised at its contents_. 'A little better actually.'_ Really? It sure didn't sound like they were doing better. He put his phone aside. He was definitely not going to open that can of worms.

**FIN**

* * *

**AN: Can you tell I love Batman?**


	23. Look Who's Here!

**LOOK WHO'S HERE!**

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT own any of these wonderful characters. I just like to play in their sandbox. All characters belong DC comics.**

Green Lantern, Hal Jordan, hovered in the air along with dozens more of his fellow corps members. His gaze shifted not only to the immense yellow being of fear incarnate known as Parallax, but to the colossal waves heading straight for the cliffside below. Oh crap. He dodged several bursts of pure yellow energy. This was so not good.

He used his ring to acts as a communicator. _'Judging by the tidal waves down here, I'm guessing Mogo showed up?'_ He sent to Kilowog, who always seemed disturbingly happy when the living planet arrived at a fight. He cursed and rocketed downward, forming a .50 caliber Gatling gun construct to fill the yellow monstrosity full of energy bullets.

Tomar-Re flew forward, dozens of giant sword constructs aimed at Parallax. His ring blinked and the message popped up. '_He just joined the fight!'_ Different degrees of happy emojis followed the sentence. _'You afraid he's gonna stop Parallax without you poozer?'_

Hal rolled his eyes. He zipped towards the city below, aiding Katma in evacuating it and carrying its citizens to safety. _'I'm afraid 'cause he's a planet you idiots! He can't just roll into an inhabited solar system!'_ His heart went out to the hundreds of people huddling on his humongous baseball glove construct. They set the people down far outside the city. He smiled and gave a gracious nod when they thanked them before zooming away toward the battle in the distance.

He clenched his teeth when he saw the yellow menace escaping into the upper atmosphere. _'But he's our heavy hitter!'_ Came Kilowog's reply.

'_Too heavy!'_ He sent, growling under his breath. He stopped midflight when he noticed a current wrongness. This planet had four moons. Why were only three hanging in the sky? He groaned before sending another message. _'His gravitational pull just stole one of the planet's moons!'_

His ring blinked and what he read nearly set his blood afire. _'He's gonna use it to hit Parallax as soon as he escapes the planet.'_ Here were winking emojis.

Hal wanted to go back to Earth. Where in any point in time was hurling a frackin' moon at someone a good idea? _'PUT. THE…MOON…BACK!'_ They were going to turn this poor planet to Swiss cheese not to mention what would happen to the seasons- if anything of the planet remained. _'Kilowog!'_ He received no other reply. Motherthumper.

**END**


	24. The Regular Guys

**THE REGULAR GUYS**

**DISCLAIMER: Nope not mine.**

The Flash ran inside his apartment, trying to regroup after his terrible night. Man, he had rotten luck. Why did his villains decide to team up? This was not friggin' Gotham. He may need some backup. He flopped face down on his bed. He grabbed his phone off his nightstand and found his chosen backups' number.

'_Hey, I could use some help! My best Rogues teamed up: Trickster, Captain Cold, Heatwave, and Captain Boomerang.'_ He texted, sending the message to his chosen ones. He waited for a response.

His phone whistled. He looked down at the message, frowning at the content_. 'Aren't those all regular humans? It sounds like a pretty easy fight.'_

A prick of offense rippled through him. _'Are you kidding? Regular humans make the most powerful villains. They compensate by working super hard on their plans.'_ He sent the message. It was true. Regular humans were more cunning, i.e. The Joker, i.e. Lex Luthor. His phone whistled.

'_Pfftt. I'd fight a regular human over someone with superpowers any day! I'd beat a human in seconds no doubt about it!'_

Wally glowered at the screen. Just then he received another text message. It was from Batman. _'What are we talking about now?'_ Before he could respond his phone chirped again. It was Superman.

'_Nothing. Gotta go.'_

Wally snorted and fell into peals of laughter. Bats sure had the best timing.

**END**

* * *

**AN: Ah Superman, always putting his foot in his mouth. I still care for the Big Blue though. **


	25. Falcon Fiasco

**FALCON FIASCO**

**DISCLAIMER: The characters are not mine. They belong to DC. (T_T)**

**Wonderbat385: Glad I could make you laugh (^_^). **

**AN: I enjoyed writing this one. So very much. (mwahahaha!)**

Oliver finished assembling his Reuben sandwich, mouth almost watering at the 'special sauce' he'd slathered on the bread. He lifted his phone from his kitchen island when it chirped. It was Wonder Woman.

'_I just sent you the battle plans for fighting Darkseid.'_

'_Okay, thanks.'_ He sent back. He lifted the plate and crossed to the refrigerator. He picked out a bottle of strawberry apple juice. He checked his inbox, finding no new messages. '_There's nothing in my inbox.' _ He sent.

He rounded the kitchen island and sat at one of the stools. He is phone chirped. He glanced down, reading the message. _'I do not trust man's electronic mail. I sent it by falcon.'_

His brow slanted in bewilderment. "By falcon?" Wait. Did she mean literally by falcon? He glanced up when movement caught his eye.

Sure enough, a friggin' _falcon_ flew through his living room balcony windows. His eyebrows shot up and for several seconds he stood frozen because of the sheer absurdity of the unfolding situation. The bird, which was the size of a frigging corgi by the way, didn't land and sit obediently like in all the movies. No, the motherflapper was all over the place like he paid rent.

Oliver jumped to his feet and picked up his phone. '_Oh god the FALCON just flew through my window. It's so big and it's everywhere. What do I do!?'_

At that moment, the falcon spotted him. He didn't know if the falcon thought he was a big chicken, or it just had a chip on its shoulder, but all heck broke loose. It flew straight at him and Oliver yelped, diving behind the kitchen island, sandwich all but forgotten.

He regarded the phone when it chirped. _'Put on your Falconer glove or gauntlet.'_

He deadpanned at the screen. Oh yeah like he just happened to have one of those lying around. He wasn't some medieval knight hunting duck! He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to compose himself before he typed his message. _'I don't have a falconer's glove Diana!'_ He sent.

He looked up at his refrigerator when the falcon let out a strident call. The avian menace sat perched atop his fridge staring down at him with malevolent eyes. He cursed. Was the thing friggin challenging him? What was the proper etiquette to let it know he just wanted to peacefully coexist? The light bulb he would rue for days flickered to life. He could just Google it, duh.

As soon as he started typing, the bird let out another shriek, like it knew he wanted to make friends and it wanted nothing to do with his foolish ideals. His head jerked up, eyes rounding when it started shrieking and flapping its wings like a maniac. Its gaze remained directly on him.

Nope. Screw bird etiquette. He jumped to his feet and bolted for the balcony door across the living room, the flying pillow of seething hatred on his heels. Screw his luck! Why did crap like this always happen to him. He dashed onto the balcony slamming the doors preceding them. The falcon almost collided with the glass doors.

The evil thing probably figuring he was satisfactorily disposed of, returned to his kitchen. He could only watch as it flapped about like it was insane, creating utter mayhem in his home.

He didn't know how long he was on the balcony, but Diana finally replied. '_Oh. Do you have any small mice for feeding?"_

Really? Did he have any small m-! He vehemently ground out a veritable poem of colorful verbs. The sudden hard thump of the door startled him. He glanced up to see the falcon slam against the door again before returning to ruin his kitchen. What…the…crap?

He glared down at the phone. _'NO!'_ He walked to the door, watching through the glass as it wreaked all levels of havoc in his kitchen. _'He's freaking out and knocking everything over!'_ He peered closer at his refrigerator. What the heck was that it put on his fridge? Was the prick making a nest on his fridge?! '_He's making a nest on the fridge! WHAT DO I DO?!'_

The reply was quick and not to his taste. _'Leave him. That's his kitchen now.'_

He'd be gol' friggin' darned. Last time he checked, falcons did not get paid with paper money. This bird was not running him out of his house. He was going to rescue his Reuben sandwich and show the sucker who was boss. He was mothercrappin' Green Arrow.

With newfound courage he opened one of the doors. The falcon immediately raced toward him a feathery ball of hatred promising pain. Oliver slammed the door shut. Maybe he should just call animal control. I mean no use stepping on working peoples' paychecks. Yeah, he'd call animal control.

**END**

* * *

**Poor Ollie. He can never just sit down hand have normal alone time. **


	26. Not on Your Life

**NOT ON YOUR LIFE**

**DISCLAIMER: Again nothing is mine.**

**Wonderbat385: Glad I could make you laugh.**

Batman sat in the Batcave at his computer, compiling his list of contingency plans. Only when he finished Wally's did he realize Diana had not answered his last text message. He grabbed his phone and composed his message, even going far enough to make it sound conversational.

'_So, what are your weaknesses?' _ He pressed send and waited. His phone dinged. He picked it up, glancing at the message.

'_What do you mean?'_

He arched an eyebrow, getting a suspicious vibe from the message. He shook his head. Some people were so paranoid. He started typing: '_Oh, I'm just making a totally innocent list. Green Lantern can't affect yellow, Superman is hurt by Kryptonite, Flash is bad with cold, and J'onn's is fire. What about you?' _ He sent the message, leaning into his chair. Maybe if she knew he'd catalogued everyone else's weaknesses she'd conform as well. He looked down when it beeped.

'_Put down nothing.'_

He raised an eyebrow at the short answer. Wow. Over-confident much? Everyone had weaknesses. Everyone. '_You're saying you don't have any weaknesses.'_ He pressed send. The reply came uncharacteristically quick.

'_I'm saying if I did, I wouldn't be dumb enough to tell people what they are.' _ He chuckled. Well it was worth a shot.

**END**

* * *

**Gotta love Diana's sharp wit.**


	27. Hot Tub Blues

**HOT TUB BLUES**

**DISCLAIMER: Blah, blah, blah not mine. Blah, blah, blah DC.**

**A.N.: This one got serious pretty quickly.**

Aquaman swam through the city, enjoying the scenery of the undersea metropolis and sight of his people living their daily lives. One thing however did bother him: the climbing heat. He waved at the citizens as he bypassed them all dressed in either the traditional or outlandish Atlantean attire. He dove down, past the high shining uptown to the lower levels swimming to sit upon a large aquatic rock formation to watch a group of young ones play ball.

His phone burbled. He withdrew it from his pants and glanced at the screen. It was from The Flash. What weirdness would he pose now? The young man was full of questions about Atlantis and some were endearing while others… He read the message.

'_With global warming heating up the oceans your home must be like a hot tub. That's gotta be all kinds of fun!'_ He frowned deeply at the thumbs-up sign ending the message.

He thought of the newfound struggles plaguing his people. He could not count how many cases of sea animals injured by the garbage humans pumped into the ocean he'd read this year alone. Then there was the poison contaminating the water. The funds spent on medicines to treat the sicknesses causes by the pollution climbed dramatically each year.

'_Not to live in! Especially when it's full of garbage and the coral reef is disappearing.'_ He sent the message before he returned his attention to the game unfolding on the court. He almost laughed when one of the young ones, emboldened by her success at a difficult shot, started trash-talking the opposition.

He exhaled heavily, causing bubbles to froth forth when his phone burbled again. _'You probably don't want coral reef in your hot tub anyway.'_

Arthur's scowled at the phone. Motherf-! Really? The ocean was not a hot tub for crying out loud. _'Would you stop focusing on the stupid hot tub thing! You all are ruining the ocean and marine life is DYING!'_ He inserted several angry emojis before sending the message. He ran a hand down his face out of frustration. Had he known The Flash's questions would have led to such a dark conversation, he would not have replied in the first place.

His left eyebrow literally twitched when his phone burbled. Po-frigging-seidon give him strength. _'Sorry. We really have done horrible things to your home. It's incredible you haven't turned evil in retribution.'_

A sense of irony flooded him at the message and a wry smile twisted his lips. He was not proud but sometimes when he looked at the damage done to their aquatic home the thought crossed his mind. Sometimes he thought about hitting up Ocean Master and whoever the heck else and tell them to suit the feck up. The land dwellers had gone too far. And it was time to ride out and split skulls on a global scale. But then… What would he say to Mera? To the wives, parents, and children of the fallen soldiers? All he would accomplish was death and blood in the water on both sides. What would make him any better than any foolish tyrants in history?

He closed his eyes, chuckling at the response he'd give: '_Poetic justice. Knowing you'll all eventually be drowned by the very ocean you polluted really helps. I'm going to give your house to my dolphins.' _He ended the message with smiling and winking emojis.

He handed the phone to one of his silent guards and swam toward the young ones on the court. "How about letting an old pro play!"

**END**

* * *

**AN: Like I said I want to keep these a mostly light, but this one tried to sober up on me a bit. Hope you enjoyed it, though.**


	28. All Together Now

**ALL TOGETHER NOW**

**DISCLAIMER: It's all DC's world.**

**Wonderbat: I think Bruce and Diana's relationship is pretty interesting too especially in the animated series.**

Gorilla Grodd stared at his empty lair with a frown. With a humph he lumbered into his workshop and drew up a plan for another attack on The Flash. The silence as he worked was, as usual, deafening. He finished his plans, fixed his dinner, and later sat in his recliner watching Solo: A Star Wars Story. Alone.

He grabbed his gorilla-friendly phone. Maybe he could get some help with his newest plan. _'My fellow intelligent Gorillas, I need your help turning the world into Gorillas!'_ He sent out to the two recipients he deemed worthy of being in his contacts list.

Monsieur Mala answered first, being the more cordial of the two. _'I'm a maybe.'_ He would have replied if not for the message that popped on-screen. It was from Ultra Humanite.

'_Again? This is like your 8__th__ try at this. I think that's enough.'_ He could hear the condescension in the albino gorilla's voice.

He snorted at the reply. _'It's never enough!'_ He sent. He had a goal in life to turn all humans into gorillas and he wasn't going to quit just because he failed several times.

'_So, your goal is Gorillas that used to be humans, are as strong as you and angry at you? Hard pass.'_ Ultra Humanite answered, snark on full blast.

Grodd snarled, squashing the angry disappointment that swirled through him. His phone booped. He looked down to read Mala's reply_. 'I want to be the only Gorilla in a beret.'_

Grodd squinted at the message. _'I can't guarantee that.'_ He pressed send. The reply was fast and unexpected.

'_Then I'm out.'_

He let out a heavy breath. _'Cards on the tables, I'm just so lonely guys.' _ He sent the message. Maybe he could stand to be a little more social with his fellow intelligent super villains. After all Mala and Ultra Humanite did have a standing game of poker every Thursday night. _'You guys feel like doing a movie night Saturday? I've got the entire Star Wars collection.'_ He sent then waited.

Surprisingly Ultra Humanite replied first. '_Fine, I'm not trying to take over the world that day. I'll bring the spinach tapenade and toast points.'_

_'I'll bring the fruit salad.' _Mala volunteered. Grodd hoped the bum used fresh fruit and not the canned swill.

Grodd only smiled, happy the two had agreed to his movie night. Maybe he could get in on the weekly poker game.

'_If the movie night includes the prequels I'm leaving._' Ultra Humanite replied. Grodd shook his head in concurrence. The remark didn't hurt his feelings. Before he could think of a reply his phone booped.

_'Rogue One either. The end always depresses me.'_

He snorted. That left only the originals and the new trilogy. He wanted to do a back flip out of sheer elation, but he was a stone-cold killer gorilla. So, he maintained his cool facade. _'Agreed. The fun will begin at 4pm. I'll order veggie pizza.'_

**END**

* * *

**AN: Tbh I could not resist this one. The context just seemed so interesting and I've always felt like Grodd and the other two would have this kind of solidarity thing happening. Also I just find the concept that villains can make friends among themselves just like heroes entertaining. Hope you enjoyed.**


	29. Treadmill Troubles

**TREADMILL TROUBLES**

**DISCLAIMER: Not mine.**

Superman exited the JLA infirmary, shaking his head. Poor Green Arrow. He reached in his hidden pocket and withdrew his cell phone. He found Barry's number_. 'Please don't leave your cosmic treadmill in the Justice League gym. Arrow just tried to use it.'_

He looked down in surprise when it belted out Meghan Trainor's old pop hit _All About That Bass_. He frowned making a note to ask Bruce to have a talk with Tim and Jason later. He ignored the message for the time being, opting instead to select a bottle of strawberry lemonade from the vending machine across the hallway. He read the response: '_He can use it if he wants. It can't send you through time unless you have superspeed.' _

He reentered the infirmary which presently had only one patient: Oliver Queen, the Green Arrow. The man lay beneath the crisp white covers of one of the beds, unconscious. He sat down next to the bed and pressed the message icon. _'It can't send him through time but it did send him through the wall.'_ He had been flying towards JLA headquarters when Arrow's silent form rocketed past him. He'd been so surprised that he'd hesitated before following the man's motionless body.

He sent the message with a single angry face at the end. Barry should know better. His phone vibrated. _'Oh facking crap! I left it at Mach 3!'_ Shocked and nervous emojis ended the message.

Superman nodded. Good. Barry should feel sorry. If not for his armor Arrow would have most likely died because of Barry's carelessness. _'Yup, I found him in a different state.'_ He glanced up when Arrow stirred. "Arrow?" He glanced down when his phone vibrated.

'_Is he okay?'_

He leaned over Arrow's covered form when his eyes opened. "Arrow?"

The man squinted, probably trying to place his voice before speaking, "Superman." His whisper was a weak barely audible thing but, to Clark, he may as well have been yelling. "Gonna kill Barry. Look the other way." After those foreboding words, Oliver returned to unconsciousness.

Clark chuckled, honestly sympathizing with the speedster. Aside from Bruce, Oliver was the most notorious for his vindictiveness. _'He's fine. Mostly.'_ He typed, _'you may not be once he gets back on his feet, though.'_ He exited the infirmary, guzzling his strawberry lemonade.

**END**

* * *

**AN: Poor Ollie he can't catch a break. The Flash is probs gonna regret leaving the treadmill on Mach 3 when Green Arrow gets better. Tim and Jason are such little terds. I dearly love them. Read & Review please! (^_^)**


	30. Bigger on The Inside

**BIGGER ON THE INSIDE**

**DISCLAIMER: Nothing belongs to me. Especially not the Doctor.**

**Wonderbat385: It was my favorite too! Thanks for reading and reviewing**

**Samaritan Prime: Hi! Loved the Thanos comment and I'm sure Steve Trevor would be laughing too. Thanks for reading and reviewing.**

* * *

Bruce Wayne stared out the window of his Rolls Royce at the London cityscape. His eyes, ever watchful and perceptive, landed on a bright red phone booth. His thoughts shifted to one Clark Kent. He pulled out his cell phone.

'_Why do you always change in a phone booth?'_ He yawned and settled deeper into the comfortable seat. His phone buzzed. He opened the message icon.

'_I like them. A blue one showed up on Krypton once. My father said it's where heroes come from.'_ Dang, he could practically hear Clark's cheerfulness through the text.

Bruce raised an eyebrow in contemplation. That sounded like a certain ancient being many thought was a mere myth. '_Was it bigger on the inside?_' The response was quick and almost audible.

'_YES! I think my pediatrician owned it. He's the one that told Jor-El to send me to Earth. He said being the last makes us stronger.'_

Bruce frowned at the response. It was a bittersweet truth broken in many places. Instead of providing any comforting words, he typed:

'_I'm familiar with The Doctor. I'm surprised he didn't save Krypton.'_ He was honest. The Doctor from what he gleaned was a firm believer in life. He was surprised the cunning man had not found a way to save Clark's home planet.

He glanced down when the phone buzzed. _'Doctor Who?_' He paused, wondering how to explain whom exactly he was talking about without sounding like a nutjob, well more than usual. But before he could respond the phone's screen blinked out for nary a second and when it came back there was a new message that nearly made his eyebrows recede into his hairline. That one message confirmed all his endless research, all his whiffs of conspiracies.

'_Fixed point in time. I am so sorry.'_

Bruce's eyes widened. He hoped the Doctor's number saved in his phone because he had so many questions.

**END**

* * *

**A.N: Absolutely love Dr. Who and could not pass up the opportunity to write this one once I saw it. I think, I may be wrong, I saw a comic of Dr. Who visiting Krypton a while back. Maybe it's just the product of an overactive imagination. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this one.**


	31. No

**NO…**

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing! Nothing I tell you! *Cries in closet***

Bruce sat in his jet eating a bag of gourmet-brand chocolate-covered blueberries and sipping on a bottle of sparkling Voss water as it flew on autopilot. He was content in his bubble of jazz music and solitude, but of course, it was heartlessly popped. Gwen Stefani's _Rich Girl_ abruptly broke the blessed silence.

His eyebrow twitched. Jason… He picked up his phone, already having it synced to his jet's private Bluetooth. He glanced at it. It was from Green Lantern, John Stewart. '_If you ever need a lift for away missions just let me know. I'll bubble you.'_

He glowered at the message unable to tell if the man was joking or serious. _'I'm good thanks.'_ He put in, returning to his blueberries. Dang it, now he had a taste for steak tartar. His phone went off, belting the K-pop-influenced song.

'_You're so friggin' stubborn. Just admit that you're jealous some of us can fly.' _ He clicked his tongue after reading the message.

Him jealous of the flyers on the team? Please. If they needed to take a piss or crap in mid-flight they had to find a suitable landing place and risk soiling themselves depending on the urgency. If nature called for him, he just walked the 30 feet to the bathroom at the back. Luxury and convenience were at his disposal.

'_I have private jets with entertainment, stocked with delicious food, chairs, AND a bathroom.'_ He dictated his reply message to the computer. He sent the message, turning to open the fridge beneath the console.

He read the message when his phone went off, scowling at the content. _'I made a little side bubble for that.' _Smiling and winking emojis proceeded the message. And this is why he preferred his jets.

'_And you wonder why I won't fly with you.'_ He sent before commanding the computer to access his playlist which started with Alabama Shakes.

**END**

* * *

**A.N.: Green Lantern is so precious sometimes. But Batman is having none of it.**


	32. Yeah, He's A Maniac

**YEAH, HE'S A MANIAC**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything. It all belongs to DC.**

**Wonderbat385 & Samaritan Prime: Thank you for all your reviews they make this worthwhile. **

Kara sat atop one of Mumbai's tallest skyscrapers. She'd just finished fighting her Aunt Astra not three hours ago and needed some time alone to refresh herself. She stared out at the cityscape, its urban sounds flooding her hypersensitive ears. She switched over to her text messenger after meeting her goal level on Elvenar. She found Clark's number and pulled up the text icon.

'_Hey cousin, I was just fighting our Aunt Astra and she showed up wearing a Kryptonite-proof suit_!'

Her phone oohed, signifying a message, not even a minute later. _'Oh yeah, those are neat.' _

She stared at the message with narrowed eyes. What the crap? He knew there were Kryptonite-proof suits and he hadn't said a darn thing? _'You knew these existed! Why don't we have any?'_ She sent, ending it with an angry face. She could think of so many times she'd have appreciated not feeling like she had friggin polio or something during a fight.

'_If I was totally invulnerable, my enemies would literally not rest until I was dead.' _ The answer came seconds later.

She contemplated his words briefly. Yeah, that was a sound philosophy. The harder you were to kill the more effort people put into finding your weakness. _'Yeah, I guess Lex is a bit of a maniac like that.'_ She pressed send after punctuating the message with laughing emojis. The billionaire tried to kill her cousin at least three times a month.

The reply was a bit unexpected, but not entirely surprising. _'I was talking about Batman.'_

She inhaled deeply, tired of their feuding friendship. Those two… _'Of course, you were.'_ She sent with an eye-roll emoji. She shook her head and turned her attention to the setting sun.

**FIN**


	33. You Should Try Out

**YOU SHOULD TRY OUT**

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing especially Aquaman and The Flash's adorable goofball self. It all belongs to DC.**

The Flash was fresh off defeating Captain Cold for the fourth time this week. Now, he sat in a booth of a local burger joint making steady headway of his 15 burgers, eight hot dogs, 12 orders of curly fries, and 15 sodas. Behind him the diners, accustomed to his cavernous appetite, talked about the upcoming Olympics and if any of the local swimmers would qualify to compete.

He thought for a moment. The Atlanteans would friggin' smash it in water sports. He lifted his phone from the booth seat after cleaning his hands and found Aquaman's number. He almost hesitated remembering their last conversation. He'd just make sure not to say anything to anger the ocean king. _'You should send some Atlanteans to compete in the Olympics. You'd kill in the water sports.'_ He sent the message, wondering if the Olympic board people would allow them to enter or decide they had too big of an advantage. They'd rake in the ratings and the cash if they agreed.

His phone whistled. He picked it up after washing a mouthful of burger down with cherry soda. He read the message_. 'I've heard of these Olympics. Where do they take place?'_

He hummed in pleasant surprise. He didn't think Aquaman would even take it seriously. _'It always changes.'_ He pressed send and returned to his 10th burger, cheeks bulged to chipmunk capacity.

His phone whistled and he lifted it, cursing when he smeared mustard on its screen and protective case. He put the burger down and cleaned it then his hands. He picked it up again to read the message. _'A wise decision land dwellers, keep the target moving to prevent Atlantis from conquering the competition.'_

He rolled his eyes almost giggling at the man's brash confidence. '_It's not like that, it moves for fun. Last time it was in Rio.'_ He pressed send. He would regret that message for weeks afterwards.

The reply came swiftly, and it was not good. If not for his reflexes he would have choked to death. Instead, the ball of masticated food went down hard. He hit his chest with a fist and once sorted he reread the message.

'_The water in Rio is pure poison! You're trying to weaken us by murdering our strongest Atlanteans!'_

His eyes widened comically. Oh god no. He had to fix this quick. He scrambled to placate the affronted king_. 'No. No, I said it was in Rio last time.'_ He sent the message, face a picture of anxiety. His phone whistled not even a second later.

'_This is an act of war! And you will pay for it dearly!'_

Oh no. Nonono. He bit his bottom lip. Well this escalated quickly. Even for him. He exited his text messages and clicked on his contact list. He scrolled through it until he found Batman's number. Maybe he could help him fix this disaster before there was an incident. He pressed the button to call him speaking when the man answered. "Hey, Bats..."

**END**

* * *

**Poor Flash. **


	34. Short For?

**SHORT FOR?**

**DISCLAIMER: I only wish I owned everything. This all belongs to DC comics.**

**Only three more chapter left after this one guys. Thanks for joyriding with me. (^_^)**

Wally sat at his desk, munching on an energy bar, one of only two remaining. He had 15 after he restocked which meant 13 had been eaten in the course of one week. Hal had also been unusually energetic lately. He picked up his phone, giving a smile to his fellow CSI.

'_I know you've been stealing my energy bars.' _ He thought for a moment thinking of a way to convey his high levels of displeasure with the intergalactic hero. _'Henry!'_ He ended it with two angry emojis before sending the message. He gave a firm nod. Calling Hal by his full name should do the trick.

He picked his phone up when it whistled, closing the manila folder. _'Who the feck is Henry?'_

He blinked at the message. '_You are. I used your full name because I'm mad at you.'_ He sent before taking several swallows of his cooling mocha latte. He opened the folder again, going over the crime scene photos he'd snapped.

His phone whistled and he picked it up, giving the other CSI, who seemed to be hard at work, a sheepish grin. _'Hal is not short for Henry.'_ He is brow furrowed in bewilderment. It wasn't?

He thought, trying to come up with another guess. _'Hank?'_ He sent.

The reply came swiftly. _'Nope.'_ A toothy grin emoji proceeded the message.

What? Then what the Frappuccino was Hal short for? Harry? No. Harold? Nah, he didn't look like a Harold. Then it was short for something right? _'Hal…exander? Hal-exander!'_ He sent, proud of himself for thinking on his feet.

'_Nobody is named Hal-exander,'_ came the reply.

He blinked. Crap that was so true, but he was not going to let Hal know. _'Tell that to my friend Hal-exander Smith.'_ Yeah, that was a totally believable name.

_'Who's that?'_

He cursed, coming up blank on a lie. Darn Hal. _'I think we both know I just made him up.' _ The reply was annoying, to say the least.

'_We do.'_ Rotfl emojis followed the message.

Wally stared at the message with a confused brow. How the heck did this happen again? This conversation was supposed to be about him calling Hal on his energy bar thievery. How did it become about the Lantern's undisclosed full name? He glowered at the Lantern's high level of evasion tactics.

'_Don't think I've forgotten about my energy bars Henry.' _ He sent. Oh no, he had not forgotten indeed. He had caught his potato chip thief and Hal's thievery would not go unveiled. For the sake of his cranberry-flavored energy bars, he would catch the Green Lantern in the act.

**END**


	35. My Bad

**MY BAD**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own these people. I wish I did, but sadly I haven't found a genie lamp.**

Wonder Woman climbed into her invisible jet, shutting the door. Just as she'd settled into her chair and started the engine her phone dinged. She glanced down at it. It was the Flash.

'_Can I ride in the invisible plane with you for this Australia mission? Running over oceans is exhausting.'_ He inserted little sad faces no doubt hoping to tug on some heartstrings.

She smiled fondly at the text. She honestly did not mind his company. For all his hang-ups, Wally was an excellent companion on long trips. He never failed to make her laugh. However, he was a notorious snacker. _'Sure, but don't drink or eat anything between now and the flight. It's a long ride and my plane doesn't have a bathroom.'_ Even she sometimes wished its makers had equipped it with a bathroom. Pit stops were a hassle.

She looked down to read the message when her phone dinged. Her brow furrowed with confusion when she read it. _'Yes, it does. I used it once.'_

She tilted her head to the side before typing her refute: _'No it doesn't.'_ She sent without thinking. Then it hit her. A few months ago, her plane acquired a terrible smell and she had gone on a rampage to find the scent. Turns out, it was a substantial pile of poop in her storage closet. She'd figured that out because she'd stepped it. She'd thought Superman's dog was the culprit and had given the hero a verbal evisceration because of it. Turns out it was Flash the entire time!

Anger coursed through her veins and she had to put her phone down so she didn't crush it. Once she'd calmed, she picked it up and sent: _'WAIT, YOU WERE THE ONE WHO LEFT AN INVISIBLE POOP IN MY STORAGE CLOSET!?**' **_She ended it with a novel of angry faces. She'd had to clean that junk up and thrown away her boots, her favorite boots. She looked down when the phone dinged.

'_You know what, running sounds like a great idea. I need the fresh air anyway.'_ A nervous sweat drop emoji ended the message.

She glared down at the message. Oh, she bet it did sound great. When this mission was over the speedster would pay for his crimes in full. Maybe even with a little interest.

**END**

* * *

**The Flash's antics know no bounds!**


	36. Super Insomniac

**SUPER INSOMNIAC**

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. Nothing I tell you!**

Clark stared at his face in the mirror. He looked normal, if not for the dark bags big enough to hold groceries beneath his eyes. He couldn't remember the last time he slept. He needed sleep or he was going to have a psychotic episode.

He shuffled to his room, in his comfy blue-striped pajamas, and sat on his bed. He picked up his phone and found the number of the only person he knew could help him; happy they were finally on much better terms than a few months prior. '_Hey, can you help me with something?'_ He laid down on the bed and picked up the new book he had been reading for the past month. Bruce probably would not answer right away…

His phone beeped. He picked it up, desperate for help, and looked at the screen_. 'Of course, I'm Batman.'_

He rolled his eyes at the response. Sometimes he really grew tired of Bruce's crap. _'Right. Anyway, I can't sleep. Every time I drift off, I hear someone in the world yell for help. I literally haven't slept since I was "dead."'_ He inserted several weary emojis before pressing send and returning to his book. He settled into the welcoming comfort of his pillows.

His phone beeped. He picked it up and looked at the message. '_What have you tried so far?'_

He thought about his moment of desperation. _'I took two entire packs of horse tranquilizers. They just gave me dry mouth.'_ He inserted a trio of disappointed emojis before sending the message. God, he hoped Bruce could help him. He hurriedly picked up the phone when it beeped.

'_I'll lend you my night light.' _

His brow creased with bewilderment. A nightlight? Seriously? Had Bruce finally bought a sense of humor? _'How would that help?'_

He glanced down when the phone beeped and lifted it up to read the message. His eyes widened when he read its content. _'It's a red sun nightlight. You'll never catch me sleeping, Clark.' _

He rolled his eyes. Of course, Bruce would have a red sun nightlight. Did he care how Bruce got his hands on a red sun night light? A little bit. Was it enough to stop him from borrowing the confounded thing? Heck no. He rose and walked to his closet, pulling out his hero suit. He could hardly wait to be nestled in the gentle arms of blessed sleep.

**END**

* * *

**A.N: I know Clark doesn't technically need sleep (if I remember correctly) but I couldn't resist.**


	37. There Can be Only One

**THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE**

**DISCLAIMER: You know the drill.**

Green Lantern stood in line waiting for his order at Salazaar's Deli. He'd ordered a pastrami on rye with extra sauce, cannoli, and iced tea. He'd already taken four selfies with customers brave enough to approach him and threw peace signs at those trying to discreetly snap photos of him from their seats.

His phone twittered thrice. He looked down and pressed the message icon. It was Green Arrow. _'Will you please change your color?'_ He raised an eyebrow. Okay, what? _'People keep getting us mixed up.'_ A tired emoji punctuated the message.

How the heck was that even possible? He used an awesome power ring made by ancient beings as old as the universe. Oliver shot nifty arrows. How were they comparable except by their colors? And as a Lantern changing his color meant more than just changing clothes.

'_If I change to a different color it will completely change my abilities and personality.'_ He sent. Surely Green Arrow understood that fact. He glanced down when his phone twittered.

He unlocked the screen, expression becoming a picture of clear vexation_. 'That's fine. Your current personality s'not that great.'_ That humpin' terd blossom! In his own opinion, he had a great personality. Ask Batman on a good day. His eyebrow twitched.

'_You know I'm starting to understand the appeal of Red Lanterns.'_ He sent. Friggin Green Arrow. He strode forward when the cook called out his order number. He paid, nodding cordially at the elderly man, and strode towards the door. He drank in the mouthwatering scent wafting through the paper bag. Oh, he had been craving this for over a week and he was going to enjoy his heaven. He opened the door and stepped onto the bustling sidewalk, the sounds of the city greeting his ears.

His phone twittered. He sighed and looked down at the message. _'Great! So, you can change and I'll be the only green one.'_ He took in a meditative sigh. Friggin Green Arrow**.** He had half a mind to visit the little green hooded pecker.

Before he could answer with a beautifully worded barb, his phone twittered. It was Wally. _'Guys, I want you to meet our newest Leaguers today! My great-grandson from the future Green Flash and his wife Green Girl.'_

John chortled at the irony and wonderful timing of Wally's text. His phone twittered and a message from Green Arrow popped on-screen. '_FML! So, do you think I'd look best in blue or…?'_

A bark of laughter left the man. _'Yeah, blue is your color,' _he typed. With the conversation over he took flight. He'd thank The Flash later.

**END**

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**A.N.: And that is, as they say, a wrap! I enjoyed writing this and I hope you all enjoyed reading it. See ya next time!**


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